Laer o Dúath-Lay of Shadows
by Bastetmoon
Summary: The darkness is heavy upon Greenwood and in the gloom evil stirs. The awakening of an old enemy spells unrest for the elven kingdom. As the shadow rises oaths will be tested, enemies will come forth, and old wounds will be reopened. But where there is darkness there is also light. Eventual LegolasXOC. Set in the hobbit through the Lord of the Rings.


**A/N: **Hello there! So this story used to be called All the World Ablaze, however, I have completely re-written it (but the general concept is the same) because I feel that my writing has (hopefully) improved since then. In any case this is a story about the elves of Mirkwood, namely Legolas, Thranduil, and an OC character. It is an eventual Legolas OC, however, there is much much more to the story then that. It will also be exploring the darker, not so nice qualities of the elves. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism please let me know :)

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Chapter 1: Awakening

_There is a place where time stands still_

_In wooded shadowy deeps_

_Wrought in enchantments of highest skill_

_It's there were evil sleeps_

Three elves stood beneath the aged trees. Their leader and clearly the youngest, for his face was unburdened by the year's sorrows, knelt in a bed of fallen leaves, scanning the ground with practiced eyes. His companions shifted nervously.

"We are already far from our original course, perhaps we should turn back." The tallest spoke, an elf who's golden hair streamed down his back. At his belt were several long hunting knives which he fingered uneasily.

The young elf turned to look over his shoulder at his companion, "Cannot you feel it Elhadron? This forest has become strange and wild."

"Indeed." Elhadron bowed his head, "But it has been such for long years."

"Nay. I can feel it." The third companion stepped forward. He was slightly shorter than the others, but more powerfully built and his hair was rusty brown. "This shadow that Legolas speaks of, it weighs heavily on my heart."

Legolas stood from where he had knelt, his usually merry face grim, "Something is stirring."

"It could be Dol Guldor. Even now we are near that cursed hill of sorcery."

"Perhaps you are right Nironor, yet this new threat feels less dark, and stranger."

"Come friends," Elhadron spread his arms, "Already we are nearing the edges of this kingdom. It is folly to continue on."

Legolas studied his friend. No coward was Elhadron, but he had lived many years and seen the leaves fall enough times to be wary of what lurked in the dark shadows under the trees. Indeed of the elven rangers he was one of the wisest, and though strong of body, not quick to action. And by some he was nicknamed Ihdrinon, thoughtful one (meant always as a compliment), for he never rushed rashly into any situation. And yet there was no one who knew the forest paths better than he and it was for that reason that Legolas had implored his help on this mission.

But Nironor only laughed, "You lose heart so easily." He was older than Legolas but still young by the reckonings of the elves, and had all the rashness and energy that came with youth. Even now he held himself with ease, a great spear loose in his hands.

"Nay, but I see no reason to pursue the spiders any further. We were to drive them away from our realm. This we have done."

"Drive them from our realm you say? Yet once_ all_ of Mirkwood was our realm," Legolas gestured at the bits of webbing and spider blood staining the age browned leaves, "And here is evidence that they are dwelling here still." He strode forward. "Come, we will pursue them a bit further, and then Elhadron, if we find nothing we will turn back."

They set off, racing through the trees, following the spiders' trail, deeper and deeper into the woods, until, without warning the trees opened up and the companions stood in a glade.

Far above the sun's last ray's glinted through the gaps in the branches. Yet despite the light from the sky, deep shadows seemed to wrap themselves around the gnarled trunks of the trees. The ground was blanketed with fallen leaves, brown and crumpled, and the occasional patch of soft moss. In the center of the clearing, between the sprawling roots of two ancient trees lay a pool. The water was black and glassy and from it rose a mist.

Legolas did not need Nironor's startled hiss, or Elhadron's intake of breath to know were in their rashness they had strayed. Tales of this place had long been forbidden in the halls of his father. Despite that, of the young elves born in retrospect most knew the tale, but most in Mirkwood were old enough to remember. Legolas was not one of those, yet his own mother—against the wishes of her husband—had once sung to him the long bitter lament of Inwethel of Greenwood, as a warning against pride and vanity. It was the tale of the elf maid Inwethel who had lived at the edges of the forest during the days when Sauron was yet rising to his full power. Beautiful, with hair like silver and eyes the color of the ocean, she had been sought after by many. But Inwethel was proud, and all too soon she had been drawn to the aid of the enemy promised great riches and power. With time she had grown corrupted and dark, and the elves had called her Eglassel, the forsaken. Eventually she had been put to sleep and entombed, resting fitfully within the forest. All were forbidden to enter her resting place and soon memory of it had faded.

It was her watery grave they had foolishly happened across. In silence they stood for several long minutes.

When Nironor finally spoke his hushed voice seemed to echo around the glen. "We should not be here."

"I thought this place was supposed to protected, impenetrable to outsiders." Legolas turned to Elhadron, "What were the spiders doing here."

"I do not know. I thought this place was enchanted when the traitor was imprisoned."

With the toe of his boot Nironer kicked at a patch of leaves covered in black blood, "Obviously they missed something."

"Do not disturb anything." Elhadron holding up one hand in warning, "Even our light feet could disrupt the enchantments here."

Legolas was about to agree with his friend when he felt it. The pool, or whatever lay within it, called out to him, pulling him forward. Strange and unearthly, the necks on the back of his neck all seemed to stand on end. When he again looked at his companions he knew by the looks on their faces that they had seen it too.

"Legolas!" Elhadron cried out this time louder, "We need to leave. Now."

"I want to look." Gripped by this sudden unreasonable desire his feet dragged him across the clearing to be the dark water lapped gently against the moss and tree roots. Beside him he could sense rather than see his companions advancing as well.

Nironor let out a strangled sort of yelp, then set his jaw, hand flying to his bow, and settling into a half crouch as if in preparation to battle they knew not what. Elhadron's said not word but stiffened, eyes shut. A pained look, as well as a shadow flashed across his face, as he no doubt remembered the dark years.

The woman in the pool was both beautiful and terrible, and most certainly nothing like what Legolas had expected. Whenever he thought of the Lay of Inwethel he had always imagined a beautiful elf maid, with golden hair, who through tragic chance had been corrupted to darkness. Looking upon the face of the real Inwethel—if indeed it was really her—he could not help but think it no coincidence that she of all the elves had been so corrupted.

Dressed all in black cloth that billowed out in the water, her skin was as white as bone. Her hair also black as pitch (nothing like the gold of songs) flowed all around her face, which might once have been beautiful still looked high and fair but also as distant and cruel as the snow that sometimes fell on the Emyn Fuin Mountains in the north part of Mirkwood. In her hands a dark knife-like blade glittered dimly, the water distorting its true shape.

Legolas' own heart was caught somewhere in-between terror and elation. Here was something that lived in the old stories. Dark and twisted perhaps but still majestic in its own right. Sleeping in this enchanted tomb the enchantress looked like some sort of dark queen from before the end of the elder days, though if the story was really true then she had been born long after those events had come to pass. It brought to mind many songs chief among them her own tragically written ballad, of which Legolas only remembered parts.

Even as they stood there the water seemed to lap with more consistency against the pools edges, ripples originating from its very center.

"We've tarried here far too long." The mist in his mind vanished quickly as it had come, whatever pulled him to the pool's influence snapping like ropes that had been severed.

Nironor put a hand on Elhadron's shoulder and his eyes snapped open. The three of them turned to leave but they did not make it five paces before a splash made them spin round. Nironor called out in alarm, before they were truly aware he was on his stomach near the pool's edge. But he was not alone. Above him, soaked and bedraggled looking, knelt Inwethel Eglassel. In her hand the knife was raised.

Elhadron practically dove at the two of them, knocking Eglassel aside, the knife flying from her hand to land on the forest floor some feet away. She let out a frustrated sort of shriek then flew at Legolas. He had drawn his bow when he'd first heard Nironor's call, but now it did little good as she hurtled towards him. They crashed together, the bow firing aimlessly into the canopy. The enchanted water of the pool had made her look beautiful, but there was nothing beautiful about the creature now trying gouge his eyes out with her nails. Her body was thin and emaciated, her cheeks sunken and hollow, and her eyes, which were black as a starless night, were those of a rabid animal. Even so she was stronger that he would have guessed given her weakened state. Deprived her weapon she fought with limb, tooth, and nail.

_If I could only reach my knife. _But the weapon was at his belt and his hands were too busy blocking her onslaught.

They two pairs of hands snaked round her arms and Elhadron and Nironor dragged her back away from Legolas. She thrashed in their grip a vicious snarl escaping her lips. Her feet found Nironor's shins, he elbow Elhadron's ribs. They dropped her and she landed in a heap at their feet, only to spring up again and dash frantically towards the cover of the trees.

Legolas sprang to his feet, hand clasping his bow, and gave chase, for he was the fleetest of the company.

As she ran Eglassel's dress tangled her legs. With a hand she tried to hoist it up but too little effect, for the wet fabric clung to her like some sort of snare.

As it was she led a fine chase, dodging in between the gnarled trees. Legolas might have lost her in the gloom had he not the keen sight of his people, nor been able to her the ragged gasps of her breath. Besides it was evident he knew the forest far better than she, stumbling over twisting roots were he ran swift and light. No doubt he would have caught her eventually, but he chose to end the chase, sinking into a crouch and firing at her legs. His aim was true and she hissed as she stumbled to clutch her calf.

By this time the others had run up behind him. Together the three of them immobilized her long enough to tie her hands securely behind her back with a thick band of elven rope. At first she struggled cursing them, and then fell quiet, content to fix them with her hateful glare. Legolas was struck again by the unfathomable blackness of her eyes. No elf that he had ever met had eyes like that. They burned with rage and yet were as cold as ice. His mind was brought back to other matters when he noticed a warm sticky substance coating his fingers, and looking down saw that they were covered in blood. The arrow had impaled her calf, and was bleeding profusely.

"Hold her steady." Legolas gestured to Elhardon and Nironor to pin her down, and when they looked confused said, "She may be our enemy but it will do no good to anyone if she dies out here." When he was satisfied she was restrained he snapped off the arrow's point which thankfully had not been barbed, then with a quick tug pulled the arrow free. Despite the restraint he had underestimated her strength and her foot made contact with his jaw as she thrashed in pain.

Legolas massaged his jaw then examined the wound. Blood was welling even quicker, deep scarlet droplets like flower petals against the white of her skin. Tearing a strip off the hem of her dress, still slightly damp, he bound the wound tightly with the dark fabric.

"You should kill me, not help me son of Thranduil." Legolas looked up in surprise for it was the first time she had spoken. Her voice was silvery and unsettlingly calm, a though she had not just fought for her life.

"How do you know who I am?"

"I know many things Legolas Greenleaf, and my slumber has not been dreamless." She fixed him with her burning gaze and he felt a cold shiver run up his spine. "So I ask again why not kill me now?"

"It is not within my right to decide your fate. You will go to my father and if you die then it will be by his sword." He rose then as did his companions, dragging her upright. "We should go now. The sooner we reach the safety of our halls the better, and I don't fancy being caught up in a fight with her around."

They set off at what to a man might have been a brisk yet to them was a slow place. Had it been only the three of them they would have traveled much quicker, light along the branches and hidden ways of the elves. But Eglassel could not travel so fast, limping badly on her injured leg. Legolas almost regretted his when she stumbled on the detritus littering the forest floor and nearly fell, if only because she slowed them down. So they continued on like this, the three of them marching doggedly onward her limping sullenly between them hands bound.

Gradually the shadows under the trees grew longer, engulfing the party in a world of twilight. The only light came from the occasional white glimmer of starlight through a break in the endless tree bows. But their feet knew the paths well and their eyes were keen, and undaunted they continued on.

Yet even as they did Legolas wondered at the hulking shapes of the trees. Gnarled and bent the stood as if melded by some evil purpose. There had been a day he supposed when they had stood tall and proud, but he was not old enough to remember it. He had dwelt ever in the growing darkness in what men called Mirkwood, and had not seen it when it was Greenwood the Great. And still there was a majesty in the quietness of the woods, but every year it seemed the evil grew. He could feel it, like black menacing shadows that crept unhindered through the trees.

"Do you feel it _Nadorhuan?" _As if in answer to his thoughts Eglassel whispered, her voice harsh._ "_The darkness is rising. Soon you will all be swept away."

Legolas ignored her insult instead pondering the words as they walked. _The darkness is rising. _But she was mad and twisted, what did she know of this forest?

"And I shall laugh at your corpses before the end—"

"Hush." Nironor who was in the lead had held up a hand. Through the trees ahead lights glimmered. "We are almost there."

Legolas set his mouth in a grim line. "It time to bring my father a most royal present."

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Elvish words used:

_Nadorhuan—_cowardly dog

OC Characters:

Elhadron—faithful elf—an elven warrior and scout, friend of Legolas

Nironor—tear tree—an elven warrior, friend of Legolas

Inwethel—feminine one—an elf tricked/corrupted into joining Sauron during the second age

Eglassel—forsaken girl—this is the epessë (nickname) given to Inwethel by the elves of Mirkwood


End file.
